Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 60940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
She wasn’t wearing a bra, and I could see her nipples peeking through her clingy fucking dress. She had a tiny waist and curvy hips. An hourglass figure, exactly how I liked it. The front of her dress was a deep V down her chest, finishing off her outfit with red fuck-me heels.
I sucked in a visible breath as I took her in. She was a vision, a goddess, and I couldn’t remember the last time someone held my attention quite like her. The music shifted to a faster beat, and within seconds, I lost sight of her.
A sense of familiarity filled my bones.
Do I know her?
Unable to resist, I walked back inside, looking solely for her. Quickly feeling a sense of panic I’d lost her when I suddenly found her again from across the room. I watched the way her hips swayed, the way her tits bounced, the way she licked her lips, making my dick twitch at the mere sight of her striding toward the hallway with a finesse I’d never seen on another woman.
Following her lead, I rounded the corner, and we finally came face-to-face. It was only then I realized who she was, almost knocking the shit out of me.
Her pouty red lips parted as she instinctively stepped back, causing her to stumble on her own two feet. I caught her by the hollow of her lower back before she fell to the ground, immediately tugging her close to my chest where she always belonged.
She lightly gasped, assaulting my senses with her scent of honey and bourbon. Her hands pressed against my chest, but she was too late. She was already wrapped around my arms.
Her breathing hitched, and her gaze widened, searching for answers in my narrowed eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but instead, she licked her lips, and I trailed the movement of her tongue, wishing she was licking my mouth.
With her body against mine, I felt every last inch of her. From her hard nipples to her pussy. The only thing I could think about was how much I wanted to kiss that pouty fucking mouth of hers.
Without saying a word, we stood there frozen.
Until she asked, “What are you doing here?”
I smiled. “I’m catching you from falling.”
I hadn’t seen her since my mother’s funeral, but you wouldn’t think that with how deep our connection felt at that moment.
I didn’t give it a second thought. I wrapped my arms around her tighter, pulling her into a hug.
“Fuck,” I rasped in her ear. “It’s so good to see you, sugar.” Knowing right then and there…
I was never letting her go again.
She. Was. Mine.
Seven
Hazel
Since I’d left his house after the funeral, I hadn’t looked back.
I couldn’t.
If I did, I wouldn’t have made it out alive.
Sometimes my mind would drift to his bright-green eyes, and as soon as the thought occurred, I’d shove it to the back of my head where it belonged.
The way he held me still consumed me in ways I never thought possible, but that wasn’t what captured my attention the most. It was the sincerity in his gaze before he pulled me into his arms.
He wasn’t looking at me. He was staring through me like he always could.
It felt as though no time had passed between us.
Our connection.
Attraction.
Was still very much there, breathing life into me after all these years. I bit my lip like he could read my mind, and a part of me knew he could.
He always did.
It didn’t matter how much time, how many years passed us by, nothing could take away the memory of how he treated me the last time we saw one another.
I fucking hated him.
I was the first to back away, needing to put some distance between us. After a few seconds, he reluctantly let me go. Still, I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know what to say.
I barely knew how to feel.
It had been too long.
Too many years of pent-up hatred for him bled out of me, mixing in with the confusion of why I still felt this strong pull to him.
He caressed the side of my cheek with the back of his fingers. “I can’t believe we’re running into each other here, of all places.” He smiled at me. “You look beautiful.”
I swallowed hard.
“But I’m not the only man who’s enamored by you. I see you still like to wear clingy fucking dresses that barely cover your body.”
Matching his rough tone, I repeated, “I can see you still like to dress like a cowboy. You know you’re in New York City, right?”
I zeroed in on him, reminiscing before his eyes. Despite the lust evident in his gaze, I could still see the pain he’d caused me floating through his predatory regard.
I shook away all the memories that could destroy me again. It took me years to get over him, years to forget about him, yet I still had trouble trusting men. The way he shattered my heart left a long-lasting impression. I had a considerable problem opening up to men and letting them into more than just my bed.